Rejected Luna Returns with Secret Twins (Lysandra) novel Chapter 189

Chapter 189

Lysandra’s POV

One month. That’s how long I’d been living in Silverblood Pack territory, existing in this beautiful prison Tristan had created for me. The house he’d provided was undeniably gorgeous. I had several servants, three cars at my disposal, and an allowance I hadn’t touched.

What I didn’t have were my children.

I stood at the kitchen island, staring blankly at my coffee mug while my mind wandered to the same place it always did. Orion and Lyra. My babies. My entire world.

For the fifth time this week, I’d tried to visit them at Moon Sanctuary. And for the fifth time, I’d been stopped by guards who seemed almost apologetic as they turned me away.

“Alpha’s orders,” they’d say, not quite meeting my eyes.

I’d called Isolde twice, hoping she might intervene, but she hadn’t returned my calls. That struck me as odd. Isolde had always been kind to me, especially after I’d helped Fenris with his ailing wolf. The silence felt deliberate.

My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it eagerly, hoping it might be the twins. Instead, it was a text from my father, asking how I was holding up. He’d been splitting his time between packs lately, caring for both my brother and Kieran.

Alaric’s condition wasn’t improving. The mysterious toxin continued to ravage his system, keeping him bedridden and weak. The doctors were baffled, which only increased my frustration at being banned from Silverblood’s medical facilities. I could help if they’d just let me try.

Despite everything, I couldn’t deny feeling a complicated sense of gratitude toward Tristan. After our families‘ bitter conflict–what many were now calling the “Shadow War” between Moonshade and Silverblood–Tristan could have exiled all of us from the territory. My father, my ailing brother, Kieran, me… we all could have been forced to become rogues, homeless and hunted. Instead, he’d allowed us to stay, even providing

accommodations.

That gratitude, however real, didn’t stop me from thinking Tristan Wolfbane was the most heartless man I’d ever known. What kind of monster keeps a mother from her children?

The doorbell rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

It was Eleanor, the owner of Howling Beans, the coffee shop where I’d managed to secure a job. She held up a paper bag with the shop’s logo.

“Fresh pastries,” she announced with a smile. “I figured you could use some comfort food.”

I stepped aside to let her in, grateful for the distraction. Eleanor was the closest thing I had to a friend here. When I’d applied for a position at Silverblood’s hospital, I’d been curtly informed that “Alpha Tristan has prohibited us from offering you employment.” The coffee shop had been my backup plan.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said, taking the bag. “Coffee?”

“Already caffeinated to the max,” she replied, settling onto a barstool. “How are you doing? You seemed distracted during your shift yesterday.”

I shrugged, pulling out a blueberry scone. “Just the usual. Tried to see my kids again. Failed again.”

Eleanor’s expression softened with sympathy. “That’s rough. Have you tried talking to Tristan directly?”

I laughed, the sound hollow even to my own ears. “Tristan doesn’t talk to me. He issues orders through his guards.” I broke off a piece of scone but didn’t eat it. “I should be grateful, I guess. He’s giving them everything I couldn’t–security, luxury, acceptance. He’s planning this big birthday celebration for them in two weeks.”

A celebration I probably wouldn’t be invited to attend.

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Chapter 189

“Still,” Eleanor said, “keeping a mother from her children is cruel.”

My phone lit up suddenly with an incoming video call. My heart leaped when I saw it was from an unknown number.

I need to take this,” I said quickly, hands trembling as I accepted the call.

The screen filled with Orion’s serious little face, and I nearly dropped the phone.

“Mommy, are you okay? We miss you.” His voice was tight, controlled, like he was trying so hard to be brave.

Tears sprang to my eyes. “I miss you too, so much. Are you both being good?”

The camera shifted, and Lyra’s face appeared, her green eyes–so like mine–swimming with unshed tears. “I don’t like it here. That lady is

mean.

I straightened, alarm bells ringing in my head. “Which lady, sweetie?”

Lyra glanced over her shoulder before whispering, “The one who’s always with Tristan. She told us to call her Mom.”

White–hot fury surged through me. Selene. That manipulative bitch was trying to replace me.

“Don’t call her Mom,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “You have only one mother, and that’s me, okay?”

Orion’s face reappeared, his jaw set in determination. “We know.”

I wanted to ask more questions, but Orion’s expression suddenly changed, his eyes widening with alarm.

“Mommy, she’s coming! We’ll call you later.”

Before the call ended, I heard Selene’s voice, sharp and threatening: “My pups, come on, have your breakfast. Don’t make me mad. If you don’t listen to me, I will tell your dad. He is a monster Alpha. He will kill you both if you disobey.”

The screen went black, leaving me staring at my own horrified reflection.

That fucking snake. She was poisoning my children against their father while simultaneously poisoning Tristan against me. The same playbook, different targets.

I gripped the counter, trying to steady my breathing.

“Lys? What happened?” Eleanor asked, concern etched on her face.

‘I need to get to work,” I said abruptly. “Can you drive? I don’t think I should right now.”

The afternoon rush at Howling Beans kept me busy enough that I could almost–almost–stop replaying Selene’s threats in my head. Almost.

The bell above the door chimed, and I glanced up to see Jake, a college student who’d been coming in daily for the past two weeks. He was handsome in that clean–cut, all–American way, with sandy blond hair and an easy smile that dimpled his left cheek.

“Hey, Lysandra,” he called, raising a hand in greeting. “The usual?”

I nodded, grateful for the routine task. Jake always ordered the same thing a large mocha with an extra shot and light whip. As I prepared his drink, I caught him watching me, his gaze quickly darting away when I looked up.

When I brought his coffee to his usual corner table, he cleared his throat nervously.

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“I wrote something for you,” he said, sliding a folded piece of paper across the table. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a single red rose, offering it with a shy s smile.

I froze, unsure how to respond. Jake was sweet, but I wasn’t interested. Not in him, not in anyone. My life was too complicated, too broken.

Before I could formulate a gentle rejection, the shop door swung open with enough force to make the bell clang harshly against the glass.

Tristan strode in, flanked by two pack members I recognized as his security detail.

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